No fim não há quem não decepcione você.
My addiction is art. Everyday I am desperate for a fix. One more hit. One more trip where my answers can be deciphered, where my visions can be heightened. Me, pilgrim, prophet, politician, poet…spiritual archeologist. Digging deeper and deeper for the boney remains. I need it. My religion of affliction. To survive. to remain alive. it’s ok, it’s just fine. I’m not hurting anyone (really) it’s just what I need to do to get by.
I suppose in the end it’s almost too easy to look back and say what you should have done, how you might have changed things. What’s harder - what’s much, much harder - is to accept what you actually did do.
Don’t let your happiness depend on something you may lose.